


Like Mother, Like Son.

by Puffinpastry



Category: Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Coronations, DQXI Rarepair Jam, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Guest starring Hendrik’s insecurities, M/M, Mute Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI), No Conflict, Outsider Perspective, Rab is a good grandpa, Rebuilt Dundrasil, Vague act ii spoilers, character introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:53:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24216220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puffinpastry/pseuds/Puffinpastry
Summary: Again, Rab found himself giving away the most precious treasure he had to a knight.But things would be different, this time.He’d worked too hard for Eleven’s days to be anything other than peaceful.
Relationships: Graig | Hendrik/Hero | Luminary
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	Like Mother, Like Son.

**Author's Note:**

> Never written anything in this style before, but it was fun!  
> Hopefully by the end of the week I’ll have more 11/Hendrik written, too!

There was but a single soul who hadn’t been surprised.

But hers had always been a hard foundation to shake.

“I do believe that it’s time I return to Heliodor.” Jade had said as their celebrations winded to a close. “It’s time I took back my place on the throne. Hendrik, will you be coming with me?”

Rab had thought it a silly question.

Sir Hendrik was the highest standing knight in the palace, the most trusted warrior of King Carnelian, and loyal to a fault.

And yet…

“No, Princess.” He had answered, tone just as serious and face just as stone still as it always was. Perhaps Jade had known that was going to be his answer, as she only nodded, giving him a knowing smile as he explained. “I am the Luminary’s sworn protector. I serve him, now.”

Jade did not ask questions or argue, accepting his decision outright, while Eleven had looked shocked.

As if he hadn’t listened to Hendrik pledge his life and soul to him time and time again over the past year.

But that wide-eyed look of surprise had quickly melted away to something much more… Content.

Something that at the time, Rab hadn’t thought anything of.

Eleven took to his royal life like a fish to water.

Even if he did initially have trouble grasping with staying still in just one place, with the fancy clothes and expectations, with the customs, with the servants and attendants… 

_ Well _ , Rab thought,  _ maybe not that easy _ , after all, but it would take anyone a while. Especially if that person grew up a farm boy, going straight from living in a one-room cottage to a multi-leveled castle with arching doorways, sweeping staircases, and rooms that were seemingly dedicated to doing nothing at all.

It would take time, but that was okay. Time was something they had, now.

But Eleven started struggling.

He did not show it openly, hiding behind his quiet, his subtler expressions. 

Rab was still getting to know his grandson. He was still trying to learn his ways, learn what meant what. Sometimes it was hard to tell one seemingly blank look from another, but sometimes Rab knew what he was looking for.

The pinched look around Eleven’s eyes, the little silent sighs that no one would normally notice, but Rab noticed. Even if he didn’t make a sound, his shoulders had begun to shake with the weight that had been dropped on him.

The boy was stressed, and Rab had very few ideas on how to help.

Rab had thought by now that Eleven would know that he could ask his grandfather for help when he needed it.

But he  _ was  _ a hero, used to having to be the one handing out aid, and not ever the one accepting it. Perhaps people like that never really learned the lesson to ask for assistance. 

But Luminary or not, soon-to-be crowned prince or not, Eleven was only human, and Rab was nothing if not persistent, so one evening after all the day’s work was done, Rab decided to pay his grandson a visit.

He carried a small tray up that terrible winding staircase that he really should’ve had redesigned, and stopped outside his door to figure out how to knock. Maybe he should just kick the door. He’d risk losing his balance, yes, but it would be easier in the long run than placing the tray on the floor.

Yes. That would be best, except… Rab noticed that the door was cracked, and peering past the threshold, he could see that against the opposite wall, shadows danced.

Rab felt terrible for eavesdropping, but he couldn’t help himself.

It was Sir Hendrik speaking, too low to properly make out the words… But he sounded wretched. 

His shadow was looking to the ground, away from his charge, and his voice rose. Hendrik has always been loud, but never quite like this. Never in a way that you could  _ hear  _ each and every thing he struggled with telegraphed plainly through the sound.  _ “Unworthy _ -“ Was one word that stuck out against the rest, even as they all stayed within the same theme. 

What had convinced the unshakable knight that he was  _ unworthy  _ of the post he’d taken up himself?

“I should never have stayed.” Hendrik said, returning back to his more usual neutral tone, but there was a shakiness to it, now. An insincerity as he still would not meet his Prince’s eyes. “I should have returned to Heliodor with the Princess. I have caused you undue distress, and I apologize-“

The shadow that belonged to El moved forward, wrapping its arms as far around Hendrik as it could, and laying his head against his chest. He didn’t speak, didn’t say a word. 

Eleven had always been a person to comfort others through touch. Kind of had to be, when he had no voice to use. Hands on shoulders, a hand on yours, pats on the head if you were a child or Veronica- but this was more. This was different.

Rab took the risk to peer through the cracked door, and found that his mind was not playing tricks on him. 

Hendrick moved slowly, as if going any faster would break whatever spell had been cast, and held Eleven back, as gently as the giant possibly could, his expression of self-disgust nowhere to be found behind one so unbelievably soft… 

As if the world suddenly made sense.

He’d seen a similar scene before. 

Another stolen moment.

Different people, a different time, but the same castle, the same feelings.

Eleven looked ever so much like his mother. He had her soft eyes and smooth features, and if he was just a little older, if his hair was just a little longer… Rab would hardly be able to stand the similarities.

Ever so careful not to make a sound and break the peace of the moment, Rab backed away from the door, and made his way back down the stairs, fighting tears all the while.

It would seem that he had his work cut out for him.

Just a few mornings later, the door to the throne room opened with a creak, and Eleven stepped through them silently, followed by his ever present shadow and protector.

And now… Perhaps something more than that.

Eleven stopped at the bottom of the small staircase, and waited.

Rab was immediately thrown back decades, to another time he was standing here before his little girl, and the man he’d grown to see as his own.

He shook away the ghosts of the past, and settled back into his throne.

“Now there’s no need for that, laddie.” Rab smiled. He’d been doing everything he could to keep their relationship friendly, though it became more difficult as time went on, and Rab became more and more focused on his duties. “Come on up here, I believe there’s something we need to have a wee chat about.”

There was a short lasting look of confusion that crossed El’s face, but he did as he was asked, coming forward to sit across from Rab, in a chair that was once a throne, but was currently being used much more casually, around a table piled high with plans and resources.

Hendrik took no seat, and made no comment as he stood at El’s shoulder.

Someday this room would be what it once was again, but the people needed homes more than the two of them needed opulence.

Rab continued his work quietly for a single moment, trying to find a good stopping place, but also trying to find the right words. He’d practiced what he would say nights before, right after he’d seen them both, but now… Rab looked at his boy, who without any prompting, had begun to tidy up the loose papers and ink quills. No, Eleven would likely be scared off if Rab began with something like ‘ _ love is a beautiful thing _ ,’ or ‘ _ there’s no rush to marry _ …’

So instead, Rab ripped the band-aid off.

“I saw you an’ Sir Hendrik, jus’ the other night.”

The ink pot in Eleven’s hand clattered to the floor, spilling the night-dark liquid across the floor.

Eleven’s hand remained empty by his side, his eyes were wide and shocked, and his face was as red as a crabid’s backside.

Hendrik remained stoic, but there was a tightness to his features that was not there previously.

Rab decided it was good that he left when he did. Backpedaling, Rab tried to continue before the both of them could implode. “I had been going to invite ye for tea, but you seemed to be… Having an important conversation.”

Eleven, recovering from his shock, only managed a nod.

Hendrik looked away.

Rab could see the gears working in the prince’s brain. Could see the conflict beginning. Why was everything always a bad thing? Rab would need to work on that, next. Teach the boy that not everything was the end of the world. He would know, he’d seen what an apocalypse looked like, and some not even illicit affair was nowhere near that.

“Now, don’t ye worry, now. I’ll have ye remember who your father was.”

Eleven’s eyes darted to the crown on the top of Rab’s head, and back down. Ever so slightly, he tilted his head.

_ The King?  _ He seemed to be asking.

“A  _ knight _ .” Rab explained. “The best Dundrasil had ever seen. I’ve not called ye here to tell you who you can and cannae love.” 

No. To deny Eleven his choice now would’ve been hypocritical at best, after allowing his mother her choice, and just plain cruel at worst. Not to even open the can of worms that was how his own wife hadn’t even had the standing of being a royal knight, or noble, or even castle staff, but a common villager in the outer parts of the Kingdom. 

Rab had never been one for following the old rules very closely, and he was not about to start now.

“Nay, you both have my blessing.” Even if giving it felt just as unnecessary. Eleven needed not the permission of some old king to do what he pleased. 

But… It meant something, to give it. Even if not to Eleven, perhaps now Sir Hendrik could find himself some peace. “And you, Hendrik?” Rab asked, “Still fancy a return to Heliodor?”

And he, who had remained quiet throughout the exchange, gave a simple answer.

“No, sire.” He said, and that was that.

Trust Eleven to find the one man nearly as quiet as he was.

Rab didn’t know what he expected to change in the following days, but nothing did.

The both of them acted no different than they did before, though Hendrik did seem to begin to smile more, or maybe just a little more expressively. Or maybe, Rab was just beginning to notice what he did not before.

Then, Eleven stopped struggling. The stress he carried began to ease.

He had a second teacher. One that was not quite as knowledgeable at running a kingdom, but one that was patient and understanding.

One willing to help shoulder the burden of the prince’s future.

Rab wasn’t worried, any longer. He could relax easily seeing the future of Dundrasil in such good hands.

When the big day finally came, all of Dundrasil, and so many others from all across the lands of Erdrea, and even some from the seas below and the skies above, gathered in and around the castle… 

_ This  _ was what he wanted. Dundrasil was once the Kingdom that all were welcome in, that all could find a place to rest and a helping hand, and it had only managed to grow even further, in that sense. With the Luminary at its helm, he was sure that his home, everything he’d ever worked towards… Rab was positive that it’s course would remain true. 

Rab was no poet, he didn’t care for all the fancy words he could string together to describe how he felt.

Not when the castle stood tall and whole at the top of the mountain just as it used to, with a bustling and prosperous town at its base.

Not when he could hardly tell the difference between the Dundrasil of old and the one he helped to rebuild.

Not when Eleven stood before him, just at the bottom of the stairs leading to the throne, dressed in the greens and golds of his homeland, the sword of light strapped to his hip, and his long chestnut hair tied back with an intricate comb. 

Eleven kneeled down, his face tilted to the carpets, and waited. Before Rab, before his country, before his family and friends… 

With Hendrik standing guard at his side.

Rab wished he could stay right here, forever, in the single moment between the hardships of the past and the struggles of the future.

But he had come all this way for something, and what would all those hardships have meant if nothing became of them?

So, the newly forged circlet in hand, Rab crowned his grandson Prince and heir to their Kingdom.

Even if his city was whole again, Rab was not yet ready to give up the ghost, and one never truly stopped learning. Rab had years in him yet to guide his grandson, he would be King in time, but for now… 

Fanfare played, his title was announced, and Eleven stood tall.

He looked every bit like Rab’s dearly missed daughter, but that loss was no longer enough to stain the happiness that overtook him as Eleven turned to his people and bowed.

A silent promise.

He would be fair, he would be just, he would lead Dundrasil into their renaissance.

At least, when his turn came.

The ceremonies processed along, celebrations were had, until all who remained in the great hall were the castle staff, and those they could trust with their lives.

He watched as Eleven laughed with his friends over one thing or another, as the night went on.

He relaxed, little by little, and surprisingly, so did Hendrik.

Standing close, but in a way that was somehow different from earlier, with one hand clasped on Eleven’s shoulder.

It seemed as though history was repeating itself.

Again, Rab found himself giving away the most precious treasure he had to a knight.

But things would be different, this time.

He’d worked too hard for Eleven’s days to be anything other than peaceful.

When the smile that broke out on Eleven’s face was so wide and bright… So different to the little expressions Rab was used to seeing, and Hendrik actually smiled back… 

That was when Rab knew that everything would be just fine.


End file.
